


metronome

by fiction fetishist (fictionfetishist)



Category: Hyouka
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionfetishist/pseuds/fiction%20fetishist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	metronome

**Author's Note:**

> written around the time ep 13-14 aired so it's more or less an au now with regards to what happened in middle school

  
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“Hey, Fuku-chan, what are we, really?” she says when Chitanda and Oreki are gone, and her voice echoes in their empty clubroom, the only sound besides the steady ticking of the clock and the slow whirr of the fan.

Satoshi smiles and shrugs. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mayaka.”

Mayaka glares at him. It does nothing to wipe off that smile of his, and Mayaka’s hands clench at her sides. “Don’t play dumb.”

Satoshi laughs. “A database can’t return data it doesn’t have, Mayaka.”

.

.

.

“I’m Fukube Satoshi,” he had said when they first met, stretching out his hand with the same ease he spread out his smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Mayaka stared at his hand for a moment, bright eyes flickering in the morning sun as she glanced at him, her small hand taking hold of his. “Ibara Mayaka.”

“Mayaka, huh,” he said, tilting his head to the side, smile growing even wider. “That’s a nice name.”

“Thanks,” she said. Then, “Fuku-chan sounds nice too,” and, “I hope we can be good friends.”

He turned around as the bell rang, signaling the start of the entrance ceremony, but she heard his voice loud and clear. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

;

;

;

“This here’s Oreki Houtarou,” he had said afterwards, as the other students started filing away into their respective classrooms, arm enthusiastically wrapped around the taller boy’s shoulders. “He may look normal, but in reality he’s the laziest person you’ll ever meet!”

The other boy—Oreki—pushed him off his shoulders, patting for imaginary dirt. “It’s energy conservation.” Then, silence.

Magenta met with green for the better half of a minute. Mayaka shifted her feet before offering her hand. “…Ibara Mayaka.”

Oreki merely nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Mayaka blinked at him, hand still open.

Satoshi laughed. “You’ll have to forgive his manners. He doesn’t really do anything unless he absolutely has to. Isn’t that right, Houtarou?”

Another nod. “I don’t do anything I don’t have to. What I have to do, I do quickly.”

Mayaka let her hand drop back to her side.

Satoshi laughed. “Don’t let him get you down, Mayaka. He can be pretty useful too, sometimes.”

Oreki remained silent.

Satoshi laughed even more. “Come on, let’s get to class,” and hummed away as he fell in line with the other students.

Mayaka muttered, “I don’t get what’s so funny.”

Oreki glanced at her. “Does it really matter?” and walked away.

She buried her nails into the soft flesh of her palms and frowned.

.

.

.

“I like you,” she had said, the third time, in the dimming halls of their middle school, eyes glued to the floor and fingers clutching at the edge of her skirt.

The telltale sign of a shoe locker closing was her only response.

She looked up to his goofy smile and wide eyes. “Well?” she asked, and her eyes narrowed to a fiery fuchsia as she tightened her grip on the dark blue fabric. “Do you like me or not?!”

Satoshi shook his head and shrugged. “A database can’t come to its own conclusions, Mayaka.”

;

;

;

“‘They Were Eleven’, right?” he had said while she read in the library, peering over her shoulder, titling his head to the side.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, inching away as she hid her face between the pages. “How did you know?” and, quietly, “Even the people at the Manga Club haven’t heard about it…”

Satoshi laughed. “I haven’t told you?” She shook her head. “I’m a database!” He pointed his finger to his head and wagged dramatically.

Mayaka blinked. “A database…?”

“Yup!” he nodded enthusiastically. “I know all sorts of things.” He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “Most people say it’s just useless trivia, though.”

Mayaka glanced at her manga, then back at him, and shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s useless at all.”

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. She nodded. He smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot, Mayaka.”

“Yo-you,” she sputtered, cheeks turning pink. “You’re really embarrassing, you know that?” but let herself smile along with him anyway.

;

;

;

“What are _you_ doing here?” she had said later, after Satoshi had left, off to one of his club activities.

“Borrowing books,” Oreki shrugged as he turned to one of the shelves. “This is a library, isn’t it?”

“Heh,” Mayaka smirked. “So even _you_ can get interested in things. And here I thought even _that_ would be too much work for you.”

“It is,” he said, looking at the note he held in his hand. “My sister’s the one making me do this.”

Mayaka hummed. “A sister, huh?” She tapped a finger against her lips. “That’s interesting.”

Oreki merely nodded, then disappeared behind another shelf.

“So,” she said, after a while, “You’re pretty good friends with Fuku-chan, right?”

“I guess you can call it that.” His voice was muffled through layers of old leather and paper.

Mayaka bit her lip. “What do you… think about him, then?”

A pause. “He has too much energy.”

“…That’s it?”

“He talks a lot.”

Mayaka sighed. “Never mind, forget I asked.” She rested her cheek against her palm. “I didn’t really know what I was thinking, talking to you of all people...”

Oreki nodded, emerging from the other side, a small stack of books in tow.

“Ah,” she said, as he began to walk toward the counter. “There was one other thing.” He looked back. “He called himself a database.” Oreki nodded. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Oreki shrugged. “Who knows.”

Mayaka looked at him seriously. “I thought you were friends.”

Oreki titled his head slightly, and his green eyes looked dull even in the mid-afternoon light. “That doesn’t mean that I know.”

Mayaka furrowed her brow, crossed her arms against her chest, and huffed. “Why is he friends with someone like _you_ , anyway?”

Oreki shrugged. “Who knows,” and turned, taking his stack of books with him.

Mayaka frowned and glared at his back until it disappeared into the hallway.

.

.

.

“I like you,” she had said, the second time, in front of the crossroads where they parted on the way home, fingers tugging at his sleeve gently.

Satoshi’s hand covered her own, briefly, then pulled away, freeing his shirt from her grasp. Her gaze fell down, but her hand remained raised, clutching at the cool evening wind. “So,” she whispered, “that’s a ‘no’, then?” and looked up, eyes a withering rose in the pale moonlight.

“Neither,” he answered, turning to walk in the direction of his house. “A database can’t come to its own conclusions, Mayaka.”

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.

“This sucks,” she had said once after class, pointing the edge of her broom in the other boy’s direction. “I mean, why else would I have to work with _you_ of all people?”

“It’s not like I enjoy this either,” he replied, barely holding onto the dustpan she shoved into his hands moments prior. “I’ve already used more than my quota of energy for today.”

“Still,” she said, stomping her foot on the ground. “You could have said no or—or _something_!”

Oreki narrowed his eyes. “I _did_ , but no one else wanted to do it. Which was why we drew lots in the first place.”

Mayaka crossed her arms and huffed. “I knew that.” Then, “Still, why did the teacher have to draw out _your_ name? Anyone else would have been better.”

A pause. “…Anyone, meaning Satoshi, right?”

Mayaka swiftly kicked him in the shin, cheeks flushed a bright red. “Shut up.”

A laugh. “My, my, what’s happening here?” Satoshi peered in through the doorframe.

Mayaka turned, eyes wide and face red, and Oreki limped away from her arm’s length and into the safety of a nearby desk.

Satoshi stepped in, hands full with rolls of fabric. “I just thought I’d stop by and check up on the two of you before I got back to Handicrafts, but it looks like I interrupted something…?” He tilted his head and smiled.

Mayaka’s cheeks grew redder. Then, she clenched her hand into a fist and punched him in the shoulder before pushing the broom into his chest and stomping off into the hallway.

;

;

;

“Hey, Ibara, is it true you’re going out with Oreki?” her classmate had said the next day, making her drop her notes onto her desk. “I mean, you always seemed to act like you hated him,” the girl continued. “Is this what they call being a _tsundere_ , maybe?”

A hand started waving in front of her face. “Ibara~ You there?”

“I—I’m fine,” she coughed, pushing the hand away and arranging her notes back into their proper place. “I just—where exactly did you get _that_ idea?”

The other girl blinked. “The news been going around since this morning. Something about an interesting development during yesterday’s cleanup duty.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, you just _have_ to tell me about it!”

Mayaka let her notes fall out of her grasp once more and promptly stood up, the sound of metal scraping against tile causing the chatter in the room to stop. Curious eyes followed her as she stomped over to where Satoshi and Oreki sat, whispers growing in number as she stood and glared, hitting them both on the head before slamming her fists on the table. “What the hell have you been doing telling people that I’m going out with—with—with _him_?!” She gestured frantically at the taller boy.

“Ow, ow,” Satoshi said, nursing his head with one hand and covering his ear with the other. “Not so loud, Mayaka.”

“Not so _loud_?! I think I have every right to be! People think I’m going out with this sad excuse for a human being!” Her eyes were livid as she turned and pointed an accusing finger. “And _you_! Why haven’t you done anything to fix this?!”

“Too much work,” the other boy said simply, face blank even as Mayaka’s finger edged dangerously closer.

“I...! You...! Argh!” she groaned, running her hands through her hair as she stomped away, making sure to inform every student she could that she and Oreki were most certainly _not_ Kaburaya Junior High’s “best couple”.

.

.

.

“I like you,” she had said, the first time, nearly throwing the small pack of chocolates at him, brow furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

Satoshi’s eyes widened a fraction at the sudden movement, but caught the bundle in his arms nonetheless. “Wow! Did you make these?” he asked, untying the pink ribbon and watching eagerly as one of the round treats rolled into the palm of his hand.

“Yeah,” she admitted, quietly. “I tried to make heart-shaped ones, but I couldn’t get them just right so…”

“No, I think it’s better this way,” he said, popping a piece into his mouth. “Easier to eat.”

“So,” she twiddled her thumbs, “what do you think?”

Satoshi swallowed. “It’s good.” He titled the bag and let another piece roll into his hand. “Really good.” His cheeks puffed as he started chewing once more.

“I _mean_ ,” she clarified, “about… the other thing.”

“The other thing?” Satoshi looked up and quirked an eyebrow.

“You know…” she said, shifting her feet, “about…how I feel.”

“What about it?” He started chewing on another roll.

Mayaka pressed her thumbs harder against each other, dug her heels into the soles of her shoes more. “Well—” and her cheeks flushed as she hardened her eyes to a cool pink to meet his gaze. “Do you… like me too?”

He stopped chewing and looked away. “A database can’t come to its own conclusions, Mayaka.”

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“Liar,” she says, and the clock is still ticking and the fan continues to whirr.

Satoshi laughs, waves it off. “When have I ever lied to you, Mayaka?”

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“I hate you,” she had said, quietly, surely, making them both stop in their tracks.

Satoshi turned to face her. He smiled, slightly, sadly, “I know.”

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And the clock ticks on while the silence of everything that had ever been said and everything left to say drowns them both.


End file.
